The Opposite Sex
by bertie456
Summary: BB. Sometimes love-making isn't what's needed.


_So I don't actually write in this fandom anymore but I had this posted on my locked livejournal and TemperTemper wanted it posted somewhere she could read it. Here you go, TT. :) Anyone else, thank you for reading and if you're ever looking for Supernatural fic on livejournal, come look me up. _

_Wow, that sounded like a really bad come-on. Sorry._

_**Rated a strong M** for rough sex. _

* * *

**The Opposite Sex**

"Maybe he's gone off to shoot another clown..."

As snorts of mocking laughter broke out at the table behind her, Brennan pushed her way through the crowded bar, heading away from the group of her fellow professors and toward the door Booth had gone through nearly fifteen minutes earlier. She heard a raucous cheer coming from the party, heralding the arrival of another round of drinks and felt a pang of irritation at the fact that, after bringing Booth along for moral support, she was now having to retrieve him from wherever it was that he'd disappeared to.

Her velvety jacket seemed suffocatingly heavy as she edged her way around the congregated groups of drinkers who filled the bar that evening, and it was with relief that she finally reached the dark wooden door which led to the bathrooms, grateful that she would at least be able to send Booth in front of her as a pathfinder on the return journey. Opening the door, she let out an involuntary gasp at the blast of cold air that swept down the small corridor and immediately folded her arms across her chest, now cursing her skirt instead of her jacket and feeling her annoyance toward her partner rising further.

The source of the wind proved to be an open door at the end of the hallway, and Brennan hesitated for a moment as she looked between the sign pointing to the men's bathroom, and the concrete steps that led out into the darkness of the night. As much as she wanted to stay in the warmth, it took little thought to work out where her errant companion was likely to be, and she walked reluctantly toward the exit, clenching her teeth to stop them chattering.

Goosebumps covered the part of her chest which wasn't protected by her clothes, and she halted on the top step, scanning the cluttered alleyway as she called irritably, "Booth? You out here?"

No reply came from amid the crates and empty barrels which had been piled high behind the bar. Sighing, Brennan made her way carefully down the steps, her shadow falling in front of her as she blocked out the light from indoors. The cold intensified when she moved away from the steps and into the alley, trying to force her eyes to focus in the dark. Anxiety crept into her voice and she asked again, "Booth? Can you hear me?"

Not expecting a response this time either, she was startled when he emerged from the shadow of a large stack of crates, replying curtly, "I heard you, Bones."

She frowned, looking harder at him in the dim light cast from the moon and surrounding buildings, but being unable to make out the expression on his face. Eventually she spoke up, saying firmly, "Booth, they're waiting for us inside. I just came out to find you, but I told Greg I'd be back to hear about his trip to examine remains found in Nepal. We should go back."

"No," he replied simply. "'We' shouldn't do anything. You should go back; they're waiting for _you_."

"They're waiting for _us_," she reiterated, confused. "What's going on, Booth? You were getting on fine with them. I know you don't know a lot about anthropology, but you were talking to Harold about your job, and Martin about women-"

"Fuck, Bones," he interrupted, previously concealed anger and frustration pouring into his voice, "I wasn't talking to them about that, and you know it." He continued before she could object, taking a step forward so that the light fell on his face for the first time, "You told Harold that I used to kill people for a living. You told him that I still kill people as an FBI agent. You told him I still have nightmares about what I did." His mouth tightened. "And then you turned away and left me to deal with questions from him that I've barely been able to ask myself yet."

Puzzled by the intensity of his reaction, she defended, "We were talking about the war in the Middle East. Mentioning that you were a sniper seemed like a natural progression of the conversation-"

"What, you didn't stop to think that it might be a sensitive issue?" he snapped in reply. "Or did you think that, because I confided in you maybe three times in all the years we've worked together, I'd be fine telling a complete stranger just how I feel about the amount of blood on my hands?" He shook his head slightly, fists clenching in frustration. "I know you're not great at social stuff, but even for you, that's a low blow."

"Booth, I-" She stopped short when she caught sight of his hand, instead asking worriedly, "What did you do?"

He glanced down, bringing his fist up to the light and looking at the bloody, torn knuckles as if for the first time. She looked at him in disbelief when he answered evasively, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" She moved closer, taking hold of his hand and trying to get a better view despite the misleading shadows. "It looks like you hit a wall or something. These scrapes..." Looking up at him, her tone became one of total incomprehension, "Why did you do this to yourself?"

Booth shrugged as he informed her bitterly, "Guess public humiliation can make you do stupid things."

"Public humiliation? Booth, I don't-"

He chuckled, meeting her eyes and speaking sarcastically, "Of course you don't. Because there's nothing humiliating about you announcing my custody problems with Parker to the whole table, or using me and Cam as an example of sex in the workplace when I'm sitting right next to you. And God forbid that I get embarrassed by you relaying my opinions on your penis and pesticides theory to a group of complete strangers!"

Uncertain how to respond, she stammered an attempt at an apology, "I didn't realise- I was just trying to make conversation; you should've said something..."

"Said what? "Hey, Bones, I'm fine with you discussing my inadequacy as a father with a bunch of know-it-all jerks who already think I'm inferior because I don't have three doctorates, but if you could leave out the fact that I was fucking your boss, that'd be great"?"

The feelings of remorse began to ebb at his accusatory tone and she shot back, "If you'd bothered to make actual conversation, I wouldn't have had to bring anything up."

"It wasn't like I didn't try," he retorted. "But apparently, I don't have anything that your professor friends think is worth saying."

"Then why did you come, Booth?" she asked angrily, not enjoying the responsibility that he was placing on her shoulders. "You knew that I was meeting people I knew from grad school; it's not hard to work out that they would be interested in anthropology. You could've just said no when I asked you!"

"No, I couldn't!"

Breathing heavily from her previous shouts, Brennan looked up at him, waiting in confused anticipation for an explanation. She heard him sigh tiredly, his gaze lowering to the floor as he clenched his fists, now more angry at himself than at her. "I can't say no to you anymore, Bones. You say jump and my mouth asks 'how high?' before I can stop it." She saw his fists clench again, the dark blood just visible on the knuckles. "It drives me fucking crazy, but I can't do anything about it."

A bitter smile played on his lips and he turned away, pacing the width of the narrow alley as the words came streaming out, "I'm good at what I do, y'know? I catch bad guys, I spend time with my kid, I treat women right, I'm there for my buddies; I did everything I was supposed to do, until you came along and screwed me up. Now what do I do?"

He shook his head, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of his own situation. "I've lost contact with most of my friends because eating takeout with you seems more important than hanging out with them. I've not had a real relationship since Tessa because I can't get you out of my mind, and screwing Cam and Rebecca is the only way I've found to deal with it. My son is spending the night with a babysitter because tonight I'd already promised to be moral support, or a shoulder to cry on, or whatever else you wanted me here for. Hell, you probably could've strung me up from the ceiling and used me as a punchbag and I'd still have come willingly.

"And my job... I'm supposed to put bad guys in jail. But somehow even that now ranks below wanting to make you happy. You didn't even have to ask; I pulled every string I could to help a criminal out of my own free will. I lied in my official report and temporarily released a guy who was under arrest because I knew it's what you wanted and God help me, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He laughed sharply, standing still as he turned to face her. "How pathetic is that? I would put my entire career at risk because of one stupid kiss on the cheek."

Her eyes widened, shocked by the blunt declaration of what they'd both been avoiding for weeks, and she instinctively began a long-practiced denial, "Booth, the kiss-"

"Meant nothing," he finished for her, snatching the words from her mouth as the sarcasm returned, "Because you've never thought of what it would be like if we were together? Because we haven't been dancing around this for years?"

Brennan swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady as she held his gaze, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Booth laughed again before stating as fact, "You know damn well that I want you, and you can never resist pushing about it, can you? When I told you I'd had that insane pony-play dream, you knew that you were the one I was dreaming about, and you wanted me to say it." He paused, dark eyes boring into hers as he silently dared her to contradict him, and continued when she said nothing, "You asked me who my partner was, as if it would be anyone other than you. God, you even wanted to know whether I was the rider or the pony..."

"I didn't-"

He cut her off, a self-deprecating smirk on his lips as he moved closer, "C'mon, Bones, you're telling me that your analytical brain didn't want to know every sordid detail? The whole scientific picture of my messed up dreams? Or maybe you just wanted to know that you were the one on top, huh? That I pictured you riding me, leather gloves on your hands as you grabbed my hair so that I would fuck you faster?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair at the memory. "God, you've even got me whipped in my own mind."

Struggling to keep her composure at the images that now flooded her mind, she stated with a slight smile, "Maybe you should go talk to Sweets. There could be some unrelated issues that prompted the dream." She edged backward, her feet evidently disobeying the part of her mind that wanted to push him to the floor and show him just how whipped he really was. "You could have insecurities, or submissive tendencies that need to be addressed."

"Submissive tendencies?" he repeated with amused disbelief, taking a step toward her as she continued to back away, unable to take her eyes off him. "You've called me an alpha male enough times to disprove that theory."

Their surroundings grew darker as Brennan moved back between two stacks of wooden crates which had been piled high against the wall of the bar. Breathing quickening, she couldn't stop the words leaping from her mouth, despite having a good idea of the reaction they would provoke, "It could be a subconscious choice, balancing the alpha male attributes of your personality with submissive preferences in your fantasies."

The outline of his features was barely visible in the gloom but she saw him raise his eyebrows, her heart pounding in her chest as he let out a low chuckle. "Bones, if you had any idea of the things I've imagined doing to you..."

A shiver swept through her as she felt his eyes raking briefly over her body, and she found her voice, her whisper almost inaudible even in the silence of the alley.

"Tell me."

It took her a moment to even realise that she herself had made the demand, but any regrets or second thoughts were broken off as her back met the wall behind her. The brick was cold against her head, and she felt her hands trembling slightly as Booth stood in front of her, his body closing hers off from the last of the outside world and his voice doing the same for her mind.

"I've lost count of the number of times I've imagined tying you up," he began bluntly, and Temperance felt her voice catch in her throat at the statement. "Sometimes with your hands behind your back, your breasts exposed to my lips and fingers, or sometimes with your wrists bound above your head while I tend to every inch of your body."

He moved closer, toying with a stray curl of her hair as he continued, "But one of my favorites is the thought of you tied up on my bed. I've got your ankles fastened to the bedposts with your legs spread wide so that your thighs can't clamp together while my mouth is on you. You can't even use your hands to hold me down there, so your only choice is begging me to let you come." A gasp escaped her and he smiled, his lips almost brushing hers as he asked, "Are you any good at begging, Temperance?"

Begging turned out to be unnecessary as he dipped his head a little more, allowing their lips to meet in a firm kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as she responded tentatively, the heat of his mouth soon spurring her on to let her tongue play against his lips, eager for entrance. Teasingly, he allowed her this before pulling back a moment later, forcing her to tilt upward to maintain the lightest of touches until he pulled away entirely to leave her surprised and breathing heavily.

His hands rested at her waist and his thumbs traced the underside of her breasts through the layers of her clothing, holding her firmly against the wall as he spoke, his voice low, "No matter what you're wearing, I can't help but picture you taking it off. When I came to pick you up from your office tonight, I thought about locking the door and then watching you strip for me."

He flicked her jacket buttons open and a rush of electricity pulsed through her as his predatory gaze fell on her previously covered cleavage. Booth smiled, letting his fingertips play lightly over the curve of her breasts before tugging at the neatly-tied bow that held the criss-crossed laces of her black top in place.

"I would've had you strip slowly, revealing your perfect skin to me inch by inch. First, your jacket..." He slipped the item of clothing off her shoulders, and Brennan shivered despite the heat which seemingly radiated from her lower body. "Then..." Her eyes widened as he pulled her into his arms, his body flush against hers as his hand moved to her ass. "Your skirt," he stated decisively and unfastened the zip, letting the knee-length skirt pool round her ankles as she looked up at him, panicked.

Heart pounding in her ears, she saw his eyes flicker over her face and felt a tug of regret in her lower belly when he loosened his grip on her, causing her to lean back against the cold brick in just her boots, panties and top. Exhilaration and embarrassment coursed through her at the exposure and she met his eyes, her gaze one of uncertain pleading. "Booth..."

Her partner moved nearer, the surrounding crates and his broad shoulders hiding her and their activities from view as he spoke, a mocking edge to his voice, "Tell me to stop, Bones. Tell me that you want to pull up your skirt and go back inside like a good little professor."

Her jaw clenched at his taunting but she stood still as his hand moved up her bare thigh with tantalizingly slowness. "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me I'm the only one having fantasies about us being together." He leaned in, whispering breathily in her ear, "Tell me that every time you touch yourself, you're not thinking about me."

She pushed him back before the truth of his statement could even register in her mind, her voice shaking as she said with attempted anger, "Cocky bastard."

Booth laughed, stepping forward and clasping her wrists firmly as she half-heartedly tried to push him away again. He held them out to the side, pinning her against the wall as his lips once again hovered hers, their eyes locked together as he spoke softly, half-pleading, half-challenging, "So tell me to stop."

Her mouth produced the only answer it could and she leaned up, capturing his lips with hers and kissing him hungrily, tasting the bitter tang of whiskey on his lips as he instinctively deepened the kiss. His hands still imprisoned her wrists, preventing her from touching him as she wanted to, but she pulled back from the kiss, biting his lower lip teasingly as she did so. The throbbing between her thighs intensified when he growled, letting go of her wrists and cupping the back of her head as he pulled her into a searing kiss, their tongues exploring each other's mouths while their hands did the same for their bodies.

Lost to the sensations coursing through her, Temperance couldn't stop the soft moan escaping her lips as Booth's hand slid down the back of her lace panties, squeezing her ass firmly. The moan turned to an equally unpreventable whimper when he pulled away, breathing heavily while speaking with authority, "Not yet." Before she could protest, his hands moved to her breasts, swiftly unfastening the rest of the laces that provided her with support as he murmured in her ear, "You did ask me to tell you everything."

His voice seemed to paralyze her, and she stood still as his fingers moved slowly over her cleavage, occasionally brushing the material of her top but not removing it yet.

Instead he returned to his narration, his eyes focused on her face while his hands traced paths over her chest, "I always wondered what type of lingerie you'd prefer. I never used to be the jealous type, but when you were with Sully, it killed me to think that you'd be dressing up for him. Part of me thought maybe you'd be the innocent type in the bedroom, with those gorgeous blue eyes and a lacy pink teddy making you look sweet and chaste, but then another part of me was convinced you'd be as business-like as you always are, wearing a tight black bra and tiny panties to turn men on as quickly as possible."

She gasped as he smoothly and unexpectedly pulled her top down, exposing her bare breasts to the cold air and watching as her nipples hardened almost painfully. He made no move to touch her, and she squirmed under his stare, feeling the familiar tightening between her thighs as he remarked honestly, "You're beautiful."

"Booth..."

At her quiet plea, he looked up and the soft gleam in his eyes seemed to be cloaked by the wicked smile that spread across his lips. Before she could process the momentary change in demeanor she'd witnessed, a cry escaped from her throat as Booth's mouth closed firmly around her nipple, his teeth raking across the nub and his tongue swirling across the tip.

Her head fell back against the wall as he repeated the treatment on the other while his warm hand came up to cup her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers and squeezing it teasingly. All thoughts of tenderness forgotten, she entwined her fingers in his hair, not wanting the stimulation to end as he continued to lave her nipples, biting and sucking until her hips were involuntarily bucking against him.

With some willpower, she tugged firmly on his hair, bringing him up to her mouth where she pulled him into another kiss, knowing by the feel of him pressing against her that he was just as ready as she was. However, Booth evidently had other plans, and before she realised what had happened, she found herself facing the wall, his hand pinning her arms high above her head while the other rested snugly at her hip.

Turning her head round as best she could, she tried to catch a glimpse of her partner to understand what he was doing, but felt her legs begin to tremble with anticipation when she heard the sound of his belt being unfastened and his low whisper in her ear, his breathing now as ragged as her own, "You know what I told you about making love, Bones? That if you do it right, two people become one?"

She nodded, breathing constricted by being pressed against the wall.

"Well, this isn't it," he murmured firmly. "I know we'd be amazing together, but this isn't that kind of fantasy. This is an outlet, a release for both of us..." He chuckled, and she ground her ass against his length as he slipped her soaking panties down her legs before adding darkly, "This is the kind of fantasy where I spank your cute little ass and then fuck you hard."

It took all she had not to come right there from his words, and any irritation she may have been feeling at his current dominant position was quashed by the number of times she'd thought back to the feel of his hand on her ass in Vegas while bringing herself to climax. Finding her voice, she repeated in disbelief, "Spank?"

"Is that a problem?" he asked confidently, his hand squeezing her ass gently. "Would you rather just skip to the fuck?"

Despite the throbbing between her legs reaching an almost unbearable level, she couldn't stop herself whispering in response, "No..."

Her answer seemed to take him by surprise, as she felt him freeze behind her for a moment before he regained his composure and spoke, sounding impressed, "You never cease to amaze me." She felt the warmth radiating from his hand as it hovered over her ass and he added, "Of course, you never cease to humiliate me either." He leaned in, his voice challenging, "Are you sorry for what you told those jerks?"

She closed her eyes, intentionally staying silent, but let out a small cry of shock when his hand slapped her ass firmly. The sting was immediately superseded by the fact that the vibration from the slap seemed to provide some of the friction she craved, and she rocked back against him, whimpering.

His lips returned to her ear after kissing her neck softly. "Are you sorry?"

Despite wanting to feel the rush again, she felt a pang of regret about lying to him and whispered sincerely, "Yes."

Even the truth proved to have a positive effect as he spanked her again, the slight pain barely registering in her heady euphoria of arousal, and instructed, "Louder."

His hand came down again and she immediately obliged, gasping quickly, "Yes."

Booth leaned in again, the arousal also evident in his voice now as he asked honestly, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

No persuasion was needed this time and she almost sighed in relief as she answered, "Yes."

Her hands dropped to her sides as he released her wrists, positioning himself between her legs and entering her slowly while low moans emanated from both their throats at the sensation. Gripping her hips, he repeated the movement in reverse, sliding almost the entire way out before slamming into her hard, causing her to cry out in pleasure. He leaned forward as he continued to thrust, resting his chest again her back and whispering into her ear, "Shhh..."

She bit her lip, but as one of his hands moved between her legs, stroking her firmly, she couldn't stop the moans from escaping her throat, already turned on more than she'd thought possible by the previous stimulation. Her hands pressed against the rough wall as she tried to stay upright, feeling herself being driven quickly to the brink by his fingers and hard thrusts, and desperately trying to hold on to let him fall with her. However, when he slowed his movements and started to rub his fingers in skillful circles around her clit, she couldn't hold back any longer. She came with a muffled cry, his name spilling from her lips as her walls tightened and contracted around him.

As the orgasm subsided, she felt Booth begin to move again inside her, his thrusts becoming harder and faster as he pounded into her, causing a slow re-ignition of the previously spent fire. His arm was wrapped securely round her waist, preventing her from falling as her awareness slowly returned and she started to push back off the wall, meeting him and deepening his strokes. They moved at the same pace, their gasps and moans the only noise in the deserted alley and their attention entirely devoted to each other and the imminent peak. Booth's hand tightened on her hip, injured knuckles forgotten as he tried to hold out, but as she came, shuddering, for the second time, she felt him surrender, his lips murmuring her name and his arm tightening round her waist as she milked him dry.

Exhausted, they both collapsed again the wall, trying to stay upright as they gasped for breath, sweat streaking their exposed skin. Reality slowly trickled into both their minds, and Temperance covered her breasts before sliding her panties back up her legs with shaking hands, struggling to comprehend what had just happened between them.

Feeling more vulnerable than at any other point that evening, she blinked hard, forcing her eyes to focus and find her missing skirt on the floor of the alley. However, she was surprised to find Booth kneeling next to her, holding her steady as he helped her step into her skirt before zipping it up carefully. Her skin tingled at even this light touch and she moved in a daze when he held out her coat for her, his gentlemanly behavior a bewildering contrast to the passion and frustration of his previous demeanor.

He tried to move away while she put on her jacket, but she caught his arm, calling boldly, "Booth." The agent turned back to face her, not quite meeting her eyes as she asked with genuine confusion, "What do we do now?"

"We go back inside," he answered quietly, the earlier confidence replaced with resignation, "And I take whatever crap they give me without complaining." She frowned and he raised his gaze, shrugging unhappily. "After what I just did, it only seems fair."

Realisation dawned upon seeing the shame in his eyes, and she moved to block his way, asking in surprise, "What do you think you just did, Booth? This isn't a trade-off; I don't have the right to make you unhappy just because you fucked me in an alley."

"But-"

"But what? I didn't do any of this for you because I felt guilty." He looked at her in confusion and she elaborated, "Sure, I'm sorry for telling them too much about your personal life, but if you think I was being self-sacrificing in anything we did, then you're wrong. You didn't force me into this, physically or emotionally, and I enjoyed it just as much as you did. There's a time and a place for love-making, Booth, but like you said, this wasn't it. This was an outlet for everything that's happened between us over the last three years, not just for what happened tonight." She offered him a small smile. "It was a release, not a mistake."

Booth still looked taken aback, unsure of the right way to behave now that 'ashamed' was out of the question. Giving her a slight smile in reply, he repeated her earlier question back to her, "So what do we do now?"

Leading the way out from the piles of crates, Brennan looked up at him, speaking sincerely, "I don't know about you, but I'd rather go home to bed with you than go back in there."

A grin spread across his face as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms round her waist as he agreed, "That sounds good to me." He kissed her softly, the feelings behind it no less intense than before, and offered with a shrug, "We could always give love-making a go."

She smiled her approval, kissing him thoroughly before letting him slide his arm round her shoulders to leave the alley. While they walked, she leaned lightly against his chest, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she tilted her head up and whispered in his ear, "You know, you aren't the only one who's been having fantasies..."


End file.
